The Importance of Bathing
by Leista
Summary: Tallahassee decides it's time for a bath. Tallahassee/Columbus slash.  **Re-edited**


Title: The Importance of Bathing

Disclaimer: I do not own Zombieland or any of the characters or situations therein.

Rating: PG 13

Fandom: Zombieland

Pairing: Columbus/Tallahassee

A/N: Written kind of like a deleted scene from the movie, right after Tallahassee and Columbus found the Hummer. Con crit and feedback are appreciated.

Tallahassee had finally given up firing the newfound guns wildly in the air. Columbus absently noticed the cease-fire, but still jumped Tallahassee pulled his door open. He spit out his jacket string and reached for his gun. He barely had a handle on it when Tallahassee pulled him out of the Hummer and steered him around the side of the shabby white house.

"Are we lucky, or are we fuckin' lucky?"

Columbus didn't know what the big deal was. Tallahassee had stopped him in front of a small, ramshackle building, a small utility shed by the look of it (and probably infested with zombies). He fidgeted, but stood alongside Tallahassee anyway, as he wrenched open the door with enough force to shake the whole structure.

Surprisingly, it was zombie-free. Columbus just saw a big hole in the ground, surrounded by concrete, with a few pipes coming up into a…thing…and attached to what looked like a—

"It looks like a giant metal water cooler."

Tallahassee winked. "I hoped it would. Now, If I can just get this damn…" He leaned over the small motor-like thingy, and started fiddling with something Columbus didn't really understand. Columbus turned his back after hearing a loud thump from the house. So he jumped, again, when a loud, metallic whirring split the silence, along with Tallahassee's whoop of victory.

"What the hell is that thing?"

"That, Columbus, is an Artisan Well and thanks to the Lord Above and James A. Dewar, the creator of the Twinkie, this place still has working electricity. Now, how do you feel about taking a bath?"

Columbus couldn't remember the last time he had been truly clean, not counting quick rinses whenever they found running water or his obsessive use of moist towelettes.

Tallahassee took off for the front of the house, leaving Columbus staring at the motorized water pump. He caught up with Tallahassee in time to see him shove a shoulder into the front door. It burst open with a crack and a crash as the frame gave way. They stood shoulder-to-shoulder in the doorway.

"So it begins," Columbus muttered.

They decided to split up in order to clear out the house more quickly. Columbus thought they were doing pretty well; he had shot a zombie in the head, then watched as it fell out the second-story window, and he'd heard a few shots from downstairs that reassured him that Tallahassee was kicking zombie ass.

A few minutes later, Columbus was checking the closet in what appeared to be a little girl's room (if the frilly, bright clothes in the closet and the stuffed animals scattered throughout the room were any indication). He gave the plush squirrel an evil look and kicked it under the bed.

Columbus heard a yell from downstairs. He tried to race back through the hallway and down the stairs, only to find himself flat on his face. He felt blood trickle from his nose as he twisted onto his back and scooted across the room, pulling a zombie from its hiding place underneath the bed by its grip on his ankle in the process.

If he hadn't been fighting for his life, Columbus would have laughed. The zombie, bits of flesh peeling away from its fingertips and face, struggling to rid itself of a pink, flowery comforter that had come with it. As the zombie fought its blanket cocoon, Columbus managed to kick out of its grip and scrambled to his feet. He fired two successive shots into the zombie's head and just stared for a few seconds. Blood seeped into the pale yellow carpet, the pink blanket, and a plush unicorn that had fallen nearby.

_Rule 34: Always check under the bed. _

Another yell and round of gunfire reminded Columbus what he had been doing before his own attack. He checked his nose to make sure it wasn't broken, then rushed downstairs to see if he could help Tallahassee.

He found Tallahassee in the bathroom, braining a zombie with a hand-held shower massager and cursing up a storm the likes of which Columbus had never heard. (Which was saying something, since he had seen a sailor taken down by a horde of ravenous zombies, cussing and fighting the whole way down.) Columbus shook his head to dislodge the mental image that went with that memory.

Tallahassee took a deep breath, losing steam as the zombie stopped moving. "You stupid, rotting, flesh-eating sack of shit! Why the tub? You had the entire house to choose from." He threw his makeshift club aside, and it thunked down into the bathtub, next to a gnawed carcass and twitching zombie with its head caved in.

"Well, so much for that idea." Columbus refused to look back into the bathtub.

Tallahassee just snorted. "Downstairs is clear." He wiped splattered blood from his hat and stalked out of the bathroom. Columbus followed.

Tallahassee suddenly turned around, causing Columbus to stumble against him. "What happened to your face?"

"Zombie." Columbus wiped at the congealing blood on his face.

Tallahassee rolled his eyes, "I'm shocked to hear it. It's just that I've never known a zombie to take the time to punch someone in the nose. Bite off the nose and eat it, yeah, but—"

Columbus sighed and explained what happened. To Tallahassee's credit, he didn't laugh. Too much.

"Shut up. If you hadn't been yelling like a psychopath and distracted me—"

Tallahassee narrowed his eyes and gave him a hard look.

"Okay, never mind. Let's just go upstairs and look for another bathroom." They heard a few muffled noises from upstairs. Tallahassee grinned, checked his gun.

Columbus winced. "Please don't say it…"

"Time to nut up or shut up."

"It physically hurts my ears when you say that," Columbus muttered.

They thudded up the stairs, and Tallahassee took out one more zombie with ease before they found another bathroom. Columbus waited until Tallahassee had finished his victory dance, then headed into the bathroom.

Tallahassee grabbed him by the shoulder, "Woah, where do you think you're going?"

"To…take a shower."

Tallahassee just looked at him. Columbus shrugged off his hand. "Fine. Go ahead. But all this alpha male crap's getting annoying." Tallahassee gave him another death-glare, but for once, Columbus stared right back. Tallahassee cocked his head to the side, then laughed. He pushed Columbus into the bathroom. "Go ahead, if you're gonna be such a drama queen about it."

Columbus was very mature. He said, "I will," and slammed the door in Tallahassee's face. He had never had a more wonderful shower, the hot water washing away grit, grime, and gore. He sighed and, for a few minutes, tried to forget that everything had gone to hell. Every once in a while he would hear the clack of Tallahassee's boots as he prowled the house. Columbus found the sound strangely reassuring. He smiled to himself as he heard Tallahassee first shoot, then yell out a nearby window. No doubt drawing the attention of more zombies to the area.

Columbus felt oddly peaceful, even as he pulled back on dirty clothes and tried to ignore Tallahassee banging on the door.

"About time! I was starting to think that somehow you managed to drown yourself in the shower."

Columbus snorted, feeling daring. "And you say I'm the drama queen?" Tallahassee ignored him and went into the bathroom.

Columbus' inner peace was quickly shattered when he looked through the now-broken window that Tallahassee had been yelling through a little earlier. He saw a zombie splayed on the road below, leg still twitching though it's brain was splattered on the asphalt.

A zombie had shuffled up the driveway, making for the front door so Columbus took aim, but he pulled the gun back in the window, careful of the shards of glass still sticking out of the frame, at a noise much closer. He heard a second bang followed by shuffling footsteps on the stairwell. He tightened his grip on the gun and waited for the zombie to come into sight. He didn't have to wait long.

The first thing he saw was a bloodied hand on the banister, followed by a grotesque monster that had probably been an avid golfer at one point in time, if his ridiculous outfit was anything to go by. Columbus didn't panic. He took aim and pulled the trigger.

_Click._

"Shit!" That just wasn't like him. He'd forgotten to load his gun. He backed up a few steps and checked his pockets.

"Oh, shit." His ammo was still in the bathroom. He took off down the hall, zombie-golfer-guy not far behind. He was screwed if Tallahassee had locked the door. He collided with the bathroom door, then heaved a sigh of relief as the door swung easily open; he slammed and locked it behind him. He leaned against the door, eyes closed, and tried to catch his breath.

Columbus heard a long-suffering sigh from the direction of the bathtub, but resolutely did not look in that direction. He busied himself looking for his ammo and most definitely did not take a sidelong glance at the man that had just stepped out of the tub and stood dripping on the tile floor.

"That-that could be a safety hazard," he said.

Tallahassee snatched a towel and dried off, grumbling all the while. "Cain't even have a nice soak in the tub without you trying to jump into my hip pocket. Not that I have a hip pocket at the moment." He held his arms out from his sides, as if to say 'see?'.

Columbus swallowed, and went back to loading his gun. "Yes, I can see that, but there's a—"

_Thwack._

The bathroom door trembled under the impact, and Columbus jumped away from it, slipped on the wet tile, and fell against Tallahassee in the cramped bathroom. He felt a steadying arm around his shoulders, and Tallahassee smirked at him before righting him and grabbing his own gun off the toilet. Columbus muttered an apology, and Tallahassee brushed back past him, hand on the door handle. He hoped Tallahassee would hurry up and put some clothes on. Him being naked was…distracting.

In one fluid motion Tallahassee pushed open the door with one hand, knocking the zombie to the floor, raised his gun in the other, and shot it point-blank in the chest. His teeth were bared and there was a wild anger in his eyes, but Columbus didn't notice his expression.

He was preoccupied, looking at Tallahassee's muscular shoulders, the line of his back, curve of his hip, and his rather attractive ass. Tallahassee's expression was back to normal, and a little smug, when Columbus finally looked up at his face.

"See somethin' you like?"

Columbus took an involuntary step back as Tallahassee moved towards him. "What? No. I mean, you're a fine specimen of a human being, but—wait, what was the question?"

Tallahassee stepped a little closer, well within Columbus' personal bubble. He leaned in closer still. "I asked," he said, "if you saw something you liked."

Columbus licked his lips, heart racing. "I might have."

Tallahassee pressed an awkward, and surprisingly gentle, kiss to his lips. Columbus relaxed a little. In one thing, at least (and despite outward appearances), Tallahassee seemed as nervous and unsure as he was. Well, that may be overstating things, Columbus thought, but at least he knew that Tallahassee wasn't Mr. Badass in everything he did.

"Is that the best you can do?" Columbus murmured against Tallahassee's lips, evil little grin in place as Tallahassee pulled back to look at him. Tallahassee gave him a severe mock-glare.

"What do you mean, is that he best I can do? You're the one just standin' there like a knot on a log while I do all the wor—mmf."

As Columbus curled a hand around Tallahassee's neck, he absently wished the man had at least some hair. He began to lose his train of thought as Tallahassee did show him his best, gently kissing and biting, his large calloused hands roving his body.

Columbus' last though before Tallahassee did something wonderful with his mouth that clouded his ability to form coherent thoughts, was: _What is the point of surviving the zombie apocalypse if you're afraid to be a little adventurous? _He had to remember to add another rule to his list.

_Rule 35: Try new things._


End file.
